The Beak Through the Shell
by R Amythest
Summary: All of them were too enshrouded with infatuation to see clearly. A tainting of the royal family may ensue. Crimea's acceptance would be tested. Soren expects the worst. Multigenre, multichapter hopefully, kaleidoscope of pairings. Discontinued.
1. Prologue: Plasma Eroding

**Author's Notes:** Yes, a non-one-shot from Ammie. Wow. And also knowing Ammie, this stands a high chance of never making it far beyond chapter two. But, I'm actually rather excited by the plot, and I have some personal friends on my heels about this one, so... let's see.

This prologue, and some excerpts later, take place in the future from the events which are the focus of the story. ... Well, the main _bulk _of the story, anyway. It's debatable as to what's actually the "focus".

To warn you all, this story contains a total of three main het pairings and one main shounen-ai pairing. Off to the side, I've a few minor ones planned (possibly a shoujo-ai and a shounen-ai and a het, although I don't know how many) that I might or might not put into action. There's no sexual action shown beyond probably flinching at touches and kissing, although there's far more implied and talked about. Nothing graphic.

The genre concentrates around romance, though by no means is it pure romance or tragic romance or whatever. We're talking _political_ and _manipulative_ romance, for the most part. I felt that putting romance into the description would sound misleading, but what else was I to put? And, er, I tried to cram it into ff.n's limited categories to describe it as well as possible.

And finally, I disclaim. Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance belongs to someone who is legal, rich, and probably male. I.e., sadly not me.

* * *

**Prologue: Plasma Eroding**

* * *

_It is midday at the time of my writing. _

_The curtain in the palace flaps uncertainly in the wind. A rebellion is more than conceivable, it is inevitable._

_But not today. Today is fine, clean. The facade lives on, operating smoothly, almost silently, though you can hear the metallic __hiss it makes against a scabbard named loathing. Our facade is a fine work of art and a deadly weapon. I only wish Ike could notice._

_Elincia came to see me again today, more uptight than usual, even rid of all the cloth she keeps on her stomach as a disguise. I wonder if I've become a chambermaid to her, somehow, in my service to Ike. Knowing his secret, I am one of the few who could serve Elincia in this condition._

_And what of it? Do I mind so much? In honesty, the sight is not foreign, although her face clearly expresses that she remembers, and is uncomfortable with this arrangement. For Ike. For Crimea. Most likely the former: given insight on the consequences of what will come to power, Elincia still participated in this near-conspiracy. All for the sake of Ike, and the pleading eyes of a father to come._

_Elincia seems to be one who does not know where the limits of loyalty are to lie, especially now, as a fledgling queen, never having any political instruction. But with the queen of my country and the one whom I pledge service to both commanding me to do so – although ultimately, it was all the power of the latter from the start – I can only further the destruction of Crimea._

_So be it. __My loyalty, after all, lies only with Ike. I will likely be here on the day that foreseen massacre will ensue. I will likely be hiding away, deep in a desert. I will likely be watching Stefan's eyes wander to the red sky above Crimea and turn to lecture me. "And you had faith in them, Soren?"_

* * *

**Endnotes:** Yes, erm, uncomfortably short for me. If I can get around to it (which I hope I can), chapter one should come ... ... ... I don't know, I can't make promises. 

Reviews appreciated, and I'd love it if someone can tell me what year it is in Tellius at the end of the game. They announce it once, and I forget, and I'm a good few hundred miles away from my gamecube. XD


	2. One: Advisory

**Author's Notes:** Hey look! It didn't die immediately:D Be proud! ... Kind of sad, isn't it? But anyway. The future chapters should actually come faster, since I have a number of future scenes written out. (Including some rather large ones for chapters three and four. Two is still giving me issues, especially with chapter name.)

For starters, I was being stupid and forgot to put italics into the entire prologue, as it's technically Soren's writing. Corrected now. Uh, put simply, there are two major plot lines, one taking place about 5 years after the defeat of Ashnard, the other taking place about 3 and a half year after. The former (shall call future-arc from now on) is conveyed through Soren's writing, in first person; the other is in third-person narration. For reasons that will emerge as obvious later, the future-arc is more political in nature, and the past-arc is more romantic in nature. We start with larger portions of the past-arc for the sake of plot pacing, and after a certain point, it'll almost be entirely future-arc.

And I'm glad I got such a high level of enthusiasm for this. XD Hopefully this thing doesn't die on me, as 45 Deaths did. It's going to move a bit quickly, mostly to keep myself interested. (On that note, I'm also shooting my perfectionism in the face, and I will openly proclaim that some areas of this might just be plain bad.)

I realize that some of the points presented in the first scene might be quite controversial by today's standards, but I'm hoping that people won't get enraged over a slight reference, especially since Soren's... Soren.

Finally, I must thank my mother for announcing over my shoulder while watching the final cut scene that Ike and Elincia were staring at each other with "such passion." Thanks to her, I have some idea of how to write a heterosexual Ike. :shot:

**Disclaimer:** Still not of legal age, rich, or male.

* * *

**Chapter One – Advisory**

* * *

"_You," I stated as I pulled the cloth tight around her waist, "are doing an extreme disservice to your country. _That _is what I think of this."_

_She stares at me, sorrowful, apparently because I had confirmed her fears. "... Am I?"_

"_Yes." She flinched, sucking in her breath as if to expect that I would pull the cloth even harder on her, in dissatisfaction. But I did not, nor did I elaborate, knowing that I did not want Ike's affair to be exposed any more than she did._

"_... Soren?"_

"_Mmn?" I reached for the expertly sewn pillow-like ball on the counter top and tucked it in, then proceeded to wrap around it._

"_What would you do?"_

"_An irrelevant question."_

"_No, it's not," Elincia said, slightly desperate. "What would you do if you were in my position?"_

_I finished wrapping and handed her a dress, her usual favorite, similar to the orange piece she had worn five years ago, when we had _saved _Crimea. And I found it ironic that this would be the garb she would wear as we destroyed its future. "The same, assuming that I had your body."_

_She looked at me questioningly, then asked simply, "Why?"_

"_I am loyal only to Ike. Then, by extension, Crimea."_

"_... So you would 'abandon' this country for yourself. Like you're accusing me of doing."_

"_That I would. But unlike you, I have no reason to favor Crimea, as the situation is now." I gestured for her to lift her arms, and she complied. Her body, still well curved with youth, filled the dress much like before. "In addition, I would not take any action that may result in Ike's death by a mob of the populace."_

_She frowned. "And you expect me to?"_

"_The differing aspect between this hypothetical situation and ours is that _I_ am another entity. I could aid Ike's escape."_

"_But... the child..."_

"_The unborn child could be disposed of --"_

"_Soren!" she snapped harshly. "I do not approve of such brutality!"_

"_You've made your thoughts clear on the topic already," I replied calmly, buttoning the dress in the back. "I do not intend to press that option upon you. Although..." I distracted myself with pulling Elincia's hair out from between the buttons, "I find you still hypocritical. Is it just to alleviate your own guilt that you participate in this? So that when people die, you would already be next to Ashera?"_

"_Soren, _please_..."_

"_Yes, yes, it's a well worn-out topic. I'm done, get yourself over to the mess hall."_

* * *

_Speaking with Elincia, so distraught and caught in this complex circle of events, is tiring. Speaking with Elincia, regardless of circumstances, is tiring. I suppose that the majority of the blame for her mindset towards me falls on my own shoulders, a fact she has an affinity for pondering. Perhaps it is female nature to dote on a single happening and treat it as the entirety of an entity. Perhaps it is not._

_Ike made a rare public appearance during dinner. He complemented the chef, despite the fact that he had been dining on a type of corn, although I do not believe he noticed. Afterwards, he took Elincia and I aside, into Elincia's room – the most secure room in the palace, it is believed – and whispered to us, excitedly, that he could feel the small creature responding from within her. _

_Children seem to make fathers out of any sort of man with any sense of compassion. It is a bizarre phenomenon, but unquestionably present in Ike's eyes as he gestured to indicate the probable size of the child, his aimless chatting about his hopes for a daughter, and then a digression as he realized mid-ramble that he would be happy for either gender. Elincia smiled a strained smile and nodded; I marveled at the ecstasy in his eyes, the complete transformation at the once-brash, once-combative man. Through the past one or two years, it was as if Ike had suddenly changed. I cannot blame this on romantic love, as that had been brewing even before then. There was some sort of giddiness he found at the aspect of fatherhood, one that I cannot understand. _

_Can I understand any of this suddenly transformed Ike? I can only hope that a sense of normalcy will set in after the birth._

* * *

Elincia frowned, attempting to thread the string through the eye of the needle without success. She had been working on this task for quite some time, hoping that she at least had some hold on her abilities of the past. 

"Please, Queen Crimea," the maid pleaded, "allow us to serve you." She hovered dotingly over Elincia's shoulder, appearing rather old, but at the same time, holding the youthful energy that one seems to possess when one has lived a satisfactory life, and is still quite happy to see the sun of another day.

With a sigh, Elincia handed the string and needle over to the maid, as well as the dress. "I'm afraid that my eyesight may have deteriorated in the past few years already."

"Not uncommon in your family," the maid reaffirmed, already having threaded the needle and now expertly stitching an even line, repairing the dress. "Your uncle," the maid's breath paused slightly, "his vision had began to ebb in his youth."

Elincia nodded, watching the maid's sewing with slight envy. Her face turned slightly nostalgic. "I remember that he had a pair of reading glasses that he wore when he visited the library. Father, too."

The maid suppressed a chuckle. "_That_ was simply old age."

Elincia flushed. "Oh."

The maid was nearly finished. The birds' chirping was audible from the open window, and the scent of spring wafted in. The dress repaired, she held it in front of her, then near Elincia, as if imagining her in it. "Yes, yes, that will do," she muttered, lowering it and smiling.

"Thank you."

"No, don't thank me," the maid chastised. "You are such a humble queen at times."

She began to blush slightly again. "I often forget that I _am_. Queen, that is," she added at the maid's confusion.

"Ah... ah." The maid shook her head slightly, seeming to remember. "Oh, so sorry, _so_ sorry..."

"It's fine," she responded softly, taking and folding the dress. "It's true that many horrible things happened." She walked to the dresser and laid it into a drawer. "But it all turned out rather well, didn't it? ... Well... as well as a war could possibly turn out."

The maid nodded stiffly, her hands clenching around her skirt.

"Ah, but – it's all fine now!" Elincia smiled brightly, trying to cheer up the other woman. "Crimea's future has been secured."

"Has it?" the maid said, relieved at the lighter tone of conversation. "Crimea's _future_, hm? Have you been conversing with that roguish general of yours?"

Elincia blinked for a moment, and then realization sunk in. "Oh, no!" she said a bit too quickly. "No, I was speaking of the immediate future, my place on the throne, um..." she continued to blush. "I... I believe Ike has eyes for someone else," she said quietly, though she looked as if she were unconvinced, the youth of infatuation still in her eyes.

The maid shook her head, bemused, remembering the first man she had been smitten with. Of course, in her age, that was certainly a long, _long _time ago... "In any case, I don't believe he'd make a bad leader. And the people certainly love him."

"That they do," Elincia agreed, obviously looking for a chance to escape the conversation.

The maid chuckled, nostalgic at the queen's reaction. "Actually, the reason I bring this up is because a letter had arrived today."

"A letter? ... From Ike?"

"Ike's _staff officer_," the maid reminded her, with some distaste at her recollection of him – quite a rude young man. "Script is not Ike's strong point."

"Oh – yes, yes, of course," she said hurriedly, urging forward the topic at hand. "And of its content?"

"Ah, an old friends' gathering," the maid said, a smile still on her face. "And in addition, especially in your case, some minor negotiations between ambassadors from Gallia, Kilvas, and yourself."

"Kilvas? Not Pheonicis?" Elincia wondered, although part of her mind was clearly thinking of the gathering part rather than the nations.

"King Tibarn unfortunately has scheduled for a skilled medic from Begnion to check on ... King Serenes?"

"Lorazieh," Elincia provided.

"Yes, Lorazieh's condition," she finished. "Kilvas will be there to represent the bird tribe instead, although if their reputation suits them..."

"Yes," Elincia said with a slight giggle. "Reyson was probably not happy with that."

"Rumor has it that the bird tribes are at least _cooperating _decently, though I can't account for any personal feelings. But that will be something you will discover... after your arrival?" The maid asked it as if it were the question of whether Elincia would go.

Elincia nodded. "Of course." It was a given for her.

* * *

"Mist was complaining about loosing her journal today," he said, muffled. 

"Mist keeps a journal?"

He pulled the shirt completely on and smoothed a few wrinkles. "Something about expression. Must be a girl thing."

"Gatrie keeps one."

"He _does?_"

"I fathom it may be more of a log concerning his successes with women, however." Soren had doodled in his boredom a variety of things probably intended to be living, though vaguely resembling x's and sigmas. He added, _...The concept of a diary – the words created of mankind flowing into bestial expression – a 'dear' diary..._

"Hunh. ... Well, anyway, how's this one?"

"No."

"Soren, you haven't even looked up at me yet..."

Soren raised an eyebrow and lowered his book, giving Ike a glance before turning back towards the book. "No."

Ike sighed and tugged at the edges of the tunic. "What's wrong with it?"

"It doesn't suit this sort of meeting."

"It's a _friendly_ _gathering_, Soren, loosen up..."

"If it were entirely friendly," he pointed out, "Naesala wouldn't be here."

"... Point taken. But does he even _know_ about beorc dressing customs?"

Soren shrugged. "Superficial appearances are important."

Ike grumbled and flung the shirt off his head, flinging it with a soft _thwap _against the opposing dresser.

"The more _acceptable_ outfits are over to your right," Soren said, face still in his book, waving his hand off in the aforementioned direction.

Ike curiously opened the chest, then frowned. "They look... constraining."

"They are. They're also required of you in these situations."

A knock came at the door, and Ike breathed a sigh of relief, bounding over to it. Soren looked over his book curiously, then giving an audible sigh as Ike opened the door, still shirtless.

Elincia blushed very, _very_ deeply. "A-ah, Lord Ike..."

Ike blinked, then gave a soft, slightly embarrassed, "Oh, right," before closing the door and stuffing the shirt he had previously thrown on the dresser over his head.

"Ike? ... I thought I told you that tunic is..."

"It's _Elincia_!" he complained ("_Queen _Elincia," Soren interjected), slightly muffled through the fabric of the shirt. He finished pulling it over himself before opening the door again, flushed and asking, "Uh, want to talk outside?"

Elincia gave a curious glance towards Ike's shirt and then Soren, who eyed that shirt with a certain amount of withheld distaste. "Yes, if you wish."

Ike nodded and left the room before rushing back to hold the door open and calling to Soren, "Would you come get me when the guests arrive?"

Soren nodded, though he thought for a moment before raising his eyebrow. "The laguz guests are arriving far after sunset."

"Uh, yes, that's fine," Ike amended quickly. "Thanks, Soren." He let the door close, and the echoes of his footsteps receded from the room.

It was impossible to see the sky or land in that room, mostly lit by a few oil lamps tossed around the room. He wondered, slightly annoyed, how he was supposed to determine _anything_ about the arrival of the guests.

Closing his book, puffs of dust flying away from it, he tucked it under his arm and shoved the door open, walking down the familiar halls to his room. He passed by an open window. It appeared that the time spent in the holding room was not as long as he had anticipated; it could not have been more than three hours past midday. Elincia and Ike were outside, Elincia pointing at a squirrel, absolutely fascinated; Ike was clueless as to why.

Soren passed by the window, but not without playing with the ropes holding the curtains back, persuading them to let the curtains fall. But he seemed to only complicate the knot, and as he wondered if it was a maid's talent, and a maid's talent alone, he left it alone.

* * *

"Yes?" A creak of the door. The mage raised an eyebrow at the nervous woman who stood in the doorway. "Queen Elincia? I thought you were with Ike?" 

"He... left rather quickly. Some of the guests arrived."

Soren lifted his gaze to the hallway beyond Elincia's figure, and found that there was still light coming in from the windows. "Rather quickly, might I add."

Elincia cleared her throat lightly."Ah, Soren... would you... please help me?"

"With?"

"... I... I ..." she swallowed her nervousness. "Do you know of... anything Ike likes, in particular?"

Soren eyed her. "Why have you come to ask me?"

She blushed slightly. "I don't know where to start with a man... this is really the first time I've had to do something like this..."

"No."

"B-But, Soren..." she shuffled her feet in the doorway, a hand still on the door frame. "I... I need your help... I don't know much about him at all..."

There. She said it. In that moment, it was as if she had confessed – but instead of relieving her guilt, it only solidified the truthfulness of that statement. _She didn't know anything about Ike._

"Well, then..." Soren paused, seemingly thinking something over, "I suppose you'll have to go and _actually learn something about him_." He said the last statement more scathingly than he typically spoke, frightening Elincia even more.

"But he's always so busy, and--"

"Excuses. Denial."

"--And _spending time with _YOU," she nearly screamed, before stepping back and clasping her hands over her mouth in shock at what she, herself, had said. "Oh, Soren, I'm sorry..."

Soren stared at her coldly for a few moments before returning to his work. "Was that an accusation?"

"... Of... course not."

Soren shrugged, holding a piece of paper to the candlelight, examining it, scribbling down something. "Soren?" He continued to write, not acknowledging her in any way. Elincia felt most uncomfortable lingering there silently, an effect that she realized was probably intentional. She shifted her weight, making a movement to leave, when she heard a sigh come from Soren.

"Your position is most unfortunate," he said, in a low-pitched voice. "Ike would never be able to be happy, trussed up in a castle."

"I understand that."

He fell silent again, not writing any notes, but still staring at the paper. He knew what would happen. He would say, _If you truly do wish to obtain Ike's attentions, then to begin, you cannot be the queen of Crimea._ That might ensure his complete victory over Ike's affections – if they must be called that. And she would look heartbroken, leave the room; but there was a slight chance that she would resign, if she was desperate enough. And then, what would happen to Crimea?

His attention snapped back to what he was reading, and he realized that what he had wrote for the past thirty minutes was complete nonsense. He neatly folded the paper up two times, before his actions grew violent, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it with a trained wrist into the trash bin. The ball of paper fell into the dead center of it, the tip of a growing pile.

Soren realized with growing agitation that he was becoming distracted.

"He likes spicy meats," he muttered.

"... What?" Elincia found what she was hearing incredibly difficult to believe.

"Ike. Likes. Spicy. Meat. Dishes. A man's stomach is the way to his heart, and whatnot. If I recall correctly, you learned to cook in your youth, correct?"

"... Yes. Oh, thank you so much!" Elincia almost ran to hug Soren in thankfulness, but refrained from doing so, sensing the tenseness that somehow pervaded the air. So, instead, she left, somehow feeling that it would help him more.

Soren let his head fall onto his desk, wondering why he was becoming his own antagonist. His act of helping Elincia was almost self-destructive, unusual for his usual forward and blunt behavior. But, Ike had disapproved of him so greatly when he made her cry once before.

He ran through his earlier notes, picking out the bits of trash among them. He examined a messy sheet, scanning it, picking out his scribbles of "The concept of a diary – the words created of mankind flowing into bestial expression – a 'dear' diary". He crumpled it up, not even bothering to fold it, and tossed it into the trash can, where it bounced off the rim before landing inside.

It was a stupid idea, holding a diary dear.

* * *

**  
Endnotes: **And now I shall ruin the seriousity with my spazzing! (And don't mind the overly emo Soren, we get normal-thinking-too-hard-and-blunt Soren back quite soon.)

I would slow down the pace of the romance if I could, but with the way the plot lines are tangling up, I have to hurry up and reach quite a few twists in the romance quickly so the political plotline isn't going to give them away prematurely. If I were to cut down on the political plotline, I could spend a good three or four chapters leading up to this point, but... No, I have too much to get done already. :sweat: Argh, this feels so rushed to me, though. So, so rushed. It huuuurts. I suppose I've gotten into the habit of writing one-shots a little too much.

Elincia's eyesight is not canon, but I figured that with all the royal inbreeding... oi, there's probably something in there that's not good.

Yes, Kilvas was thrown in there so Naesala could have a cameo or two. There's so little non-OC-romance fic about him out there. Makes me sad. 

Also, am I the only one who things that I unintentionally write things that sound mildly sexual? XD;;

Reviews make me happy. :3


	3. Two: Delirium

**Author's Notes:** I stuck in another subplot to make this chapter of substantial length. Yay. XD

Firstly, a big, loud, and hopefully heartwarming "THAAAAANK YOUUUUU!" to all the people who reviewed. :3

... Secondly, fic. Because I know it's more interesting than my babbling.

* * *

**Chapter Two – Delirium**

* * *

_Elincia asks the oddest things. I would say that is it a womanly madness, but in this case – and likely this case only – it is an actual political, relevant question._

_"Ike would make a fine king over time," I answered her. "He is a natural leader, honest and merciful, charismatic." I took a pin into my mouth and began to arrange her hair._

_"But, Soren..."_

_I took the pin into my hand, holding her ponytail with the other. "Yes?"_

_Elincia seemed to think her planned statement over and shook her head. "Never mind."_

_"Out with it," I ordered._

_She flinched slightly. "Well... I don't recall you liking those characteristics in a leader..."_

_I shrugged, taking the pin back into my mouth and looping her hair around on her head, something I had become to be skilled in throughout the past few days. I placed the hairpin in to secure the position. "My personal preferences have nothing to do with the ideals that the people of Crimea hold. For better or for worse."_

_She played with the hem of her dress in her hands, not willing to look at me. "Would _he_ like that position, though?"_

"_Most likely not. But he knows that this is the price he pays."_

"_What's he think of it?" she asked, her head moving slightly to watch as I strolled across the room to replace the chest of hairpins._

"_He thinks it's a ridiculously low price for a new life's creation. He almost finds it insultingly low, although he's too busy being elated to be insulted."_

_I couldn't tell if she was disappointed or relieved, her mouth an odd shape across her face. "Oh. I suppose that's good for him, then."_

* * *

_I spent the afternoon in the library, mostly to relieve myself of tension. Almost all research on the matter concludes that stress on one's body induces sickness, fatigue, reduced clarity of thought, etc. An illness has been ailing many across our company, causing fever, malaise, irritability, and in some cases, vomiting. _

_Read some old analytical pieces on old plays, not a subject of familiarity – which is good. A fresh presentation rather than one that I must worry over and apply to many other things I've read. (Although, not having read plays myself, I mulled anyway over many of the points presented.)_

_Time passed, and the piece was a good distraction._

_Until the news came from Ike that she is ill, the child may be in danger. She is ill, mad from pregnancy, and screaming deliriously and unable to be pacified. If the disease does not kill it, she may very well do so. I've yet to be a witness, and I doubt that I would wish to be._

_Ike is not a good of an actor as may be required for this, either. He is distracted, staring straight ahead in the mess hall at some vacant point in the air, not noticing as he passes me in the hall._

_He said that he loved the child. He lamented on the months he had waited for it to emerge, and now, being so close, he beat the wall in silence as he contemplated its possible death._

* * *

Soren was situated in his room, quietly upset at himself and Elincia when Ike came to him, while probably in a mindset for the worse. He looked up, seeing Ike and instantly wondering about many things at once, unable to muster a greeting. But in the end, it appeared to be pointless, as Ike abruptly started, "I suppose you may not be the best person for this sort of thing, but..."

Soren rose and gestured to the chair. "Sit."

"I couldn't."

"I _told_ you to sit."

Ike obeyed, noting that it was, after all, a very comfortable chair. (Of course, if he were less distracted at the moment, he would've also realized that it must be comfortable if Soren sat in it for hours on end.)

"Is it really possible to hurt this much over a girl?" Ike wondered.

Soren's fingers gave a nervous jolt where they laid on his lap. "I wouldn't know."

* * *

Noon came quickly and painlessly, the first half of the day generally shrouded too far into the reunion's natural cheer to be depressed by either Soren or bad news. Noon did not _leave_ as happily as it arrived, however.

Mordecai sat patiently as Elincia's face portrayed a variety of expressions as she read the scroll, occasionally letting out murmurs of, "Oh dear..." or "Goddess, how could they?" Lethe was less composed, and while appearing to be in a proper, stoic position, allowed her tail to swish lightly below the table. Naesala was neither nervous nor surprised, instead observing the quality of the table with some disdain.

Finally, Elincia lowered the scroll from her horrified face and spoke the words that the others almost expected to hear. "Is it really true? Oh, _why _would they?"

"They're stupid humans," Lethe grumbled, tail swishing.

"But... with the war being over, I thought..." Elincia shook her head, rolling the scroll back to its original position and letting it rest several feet in front of her, not wanting to touch it, as if _it_ were somehow contaminated by the doings that it described.

"It's not new," Naesala observed. "It's not really unexpected, either." He sighed and leaned back, as if to say, _Ah, when will they learn?_

"But I was hoping that they would _change_, wake up, perhaps..."

Lethe let out a low hiss. "Did you really think they'd change so quickly? You frail beorc would likely be long _dead _by the time that what you expect becomes reality, or even close."

"Lethe," Mordecai said in his deep voice with a frown, "our King does not like that sort of talk. He hopes that all goes well."

"Hopes?" Lethe repeated with an almost mocking snicker. "What are a foreign king's _hopes_ to an unruly mob?"

* * *

"What did you do to Ike?"

Elincia pressed the spoon to her lips and looked at Soren, surprised. "What?"

Soren leaned forward in his chair in the mess hall, raking his fork through the arrangement of corn that laid patiently in his plate. "Something happened this morning, didn't it?"

"Nothing." Elincia frowned. "Well... the ambassadors arrived. Mordecai, Lethe, King Kilvas. We had a meeting." She took a spoonful of the soup daintily and somewhat forcefully, in the true fashion of one who painstakingly learns how to eat as a noble. "A few hours ago, Ilyana passed by with Muston while they were off to Toha for a quick trade management..." Elincia looked at Soren honestly. "I can't remember Ike being around me at all for the morning, actually."

Soren studied Elincia for a moment, face neutral. "You're lying."

"No, no, I'm not." Elincia shook her head. "And I wanted to ask him if he would like me to cook, too..." She took another stiffly delivered spoonful of the soup.

Soren supported his chin on his hands for a moment, thinking. He eyed Elincia warily, wondering whether or not it would be acceptable for him to repeat Ike's words. Mist passed by with a quick, "Hi, Soren!" as she ran to light the torches on the walls. Soren did not notice.

"You didn't have any contact at all?"

"None, Soren!" She sighed. "Why are you asking me this? What did I _do_?"

Soren continued to gaze at her, thinking. "Ike... mentioned having issues with a girl earlier today."

"It wasn't me," she said quietly, stirring the soup and blowing at it delicately. "Perhaps... he's involved with someone else?"

"Highly unlikely," he muttered. "Unless you're suggesting something improbable with Mist, you're the only female he could possibly have an affair with."

"Soren, I promise you, it wasn't me." She shook her head. "I'm upset over this, too..." Her eyebrows furrowed in worry. "And he didn't tell me, either."

Soren looked her over, cocking his head, slightly tight with concentration. Elincia looked back for a moment, but wilted under his sharp stare and looked down at her soup, taking a timid bite.

Hesitantly, she uttered, "... Soren?"

"Yes?"

"Do you... and Ike...?"

He rolled his eyes and attempted to appear to dismiss it. "I'm quite obviously not a female."

Elincia was curious now, touching the spoon to her lips again, apparently a gesture of thought. "I recall that once, my father was irate when he learned about my cousin's affair with a girl."

"What would be the problem in that?"

Elincia gave Soren a very feminist glare. "Not all cousins are male."

"Oh. ... Oh. I see." He brought his hand to his forehead in irritation. "That would be... an _odd_ cousin of yours."

"You don't need to be snappy at me, Soren," Elincia defended softly. "I was just pointing out that it exists."

"So are you suggesting that I should question the men when Ike very blatantly specified that it was a female?"

Elincia looked away from Soren shyly. "Well, no, that's not really what I..."

"Then it's irrelevant."

She gave him a wounded look and took another awkward spoonful of the soup. After a few moments, she voiced meekly, "I'm sorry."

Soren looked a bit surprised, jolted out of his thoughts to stare at Elincia. "For?" A period of complete confusion passed, and he shook his head and left the dining hall with a, "Never mind."

* * *

It was still early enough in the day, he decided, to actually _do_ something, rather than lounging around the fort and watching without interest as Soren and Elincia bickered over something -- apparently Ike.

He left, attempting to find something to entertain himself with. Perhaps that girl was still here, that girl who would turn over a great deal of money for a portion of his food.

Instead, turning down an unfamiliar hallway, he heard the sounds of moaning.

He stood next to the door, arms crossed; staring at the wall, but his ears plenty enough alert. An amused smile crossed his face and remained there, embedded slightly with greed. He ruffled his wings slightly, arrogantly. Sounds wafted from the room beside him – lustful sounds, sounds of pleasure, elation. _Secret_ elation, though no more the case. Yet they whispered the other's name as if they didn't want the world to hear them; yet they whispered the other's name so _loudly_, unable to suppress their passion.

He heard two names, and he raised his eyebrow in interest. He had expected Elincia. But rather, the masculine voice that could only have been Ike's spoke quite another name; and the feminine voice from within was more ferally seductive than he would've expected Elincia's to be.

There was a light tapping against the wall, and he shifted away from the line of sight from the gap in the door, thinking of a quick excuse should they exit the room. But this was unnecessary. They were completely woven within the spell of the moment and oblivious to the shifting of the door.

He smiled a slightly crooked smile. He saw flashes of the couple from the gap, confirming his suspicions.

_My, what an interesting situation. Who would pay the most for this?_ he pondered. The obvious answer came quickly to him.

* * *

Soren looked up from his desk. "King Kilvas? State your order of business."

The light flooded in from the outside into Soren's ever-dark room. The crow stood in the doorway, leaning against it with his forearm, a completely conniving look on his face. "Oh, but I'd require a bit of a fee for _this_."

* * *

**Endnotes:** Knowing a few of my readers, I bet I'm going to be accused of writing Naesala/Soren prostitute fic.

I assure you, this is a false assumption.


	4. Three: Recall

**Author's Notes**: Ay es dee eff. Various things hijacked my brain -- Maple Story, Death Note, Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, Angel Sanctuary. And real life drama decided to kick in in the meantime, effectively smacking down the chance of this chapter getting completed without an insane wait. But, here it is, I suppose. (Believe it or not, a single scene delayed the completion of this chapter by nearly a month, due to laptop confiscation and general lack of inspiration. Go ahead and guess which one.)

Well, after this chapter, we'll stop with the "HEY CRAZY AUTHORESS WHAT IS GOING ON" and start with the plot moving forward, quickly. ... Well, in the past-arc, anyway. And it's going to be hell to write. ... But also fun... -:coddles:- I had started a word document to hold up random future scenes and plot points that struck me, and at the moment, it's... um... 3800 words. Sometimes it seems daunting, and other times it makes my ego all proud at how well plotted out I've finally made something. But, yeah, the beginning's all done with, and now we get the fun part. (If I get off my lazy arse.)

By the way, um, if I haven't made this apparent... Elincia, at the moment of the past-arc, is quite single. o.o Good? Good. Okaaay.

... Also, I do hope that I'm not the only one amused by the name of Crimea's capital? Melior, in Latin, literally means "better". XD (Not that it really applies to this chapter all that much... Or any chapter, for that matter.)

**Disclaimer:** Last time I checked, I'm still not rich, legal, or male. I'll get back to you if that changes.

* * *

**Chapter Three – Recall**

* * *

_Ike is relieved that he can still feel its movements. It is alive, he confirmed, palms still sweaty and cooling from anxiety. "She moves a little less, though," he said, worried._

"_It's alive. Perhaps you're imagining it."_

_Ike shook his head and shrugged. "I... don't know." He looked away. "I wish that you wouldn't call her 'it', though."_

"_We don't know that it's a female."_

"_Still, 'it'? Sounds sort of... dementing, I guess? Whatever the word is."_

"_Demeaning," I corrected. "Dementing has quite a different definition."_

_Ike nodded in agreement. "Demeaning."_

"_It so happens that most people _do_ see children such as yours in an inferior light."_

"_Soren..." he sighed, "not this again. I've already went over this subject with you." He wearily raked a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Soren, I know why you'd be" -- he vaguely gestured -- "upset, but..." he looked at me and was at a loss of words. They were not required; I knew what he was attempting to express anyway: 'Soren, I'm trying to mince words and stay on your good side because we've known each other for so long, but I really don't want your negativity in this whole ordeal. Or in this relationship, for this matter. In fact, I have such a different life now that you, quite frankly, don't know me, and I could care less about your opinion. So please, let me be an optimist and enjoy my young life.'_

_I ignored him quietly in response to his silent lecture._

"_Soren?"_

"_Mmhmm?"_

"_We're... still friends, aren't we?"_

_I shrugged, unsure. But what was a white lie for the sake of keeping him near me?"... Certainly."_

* * *

Soren eyed him in disbelief. "You're lying." 

"I'm not," the other replied, quite comfortable on his spot in Soren's favorite chair, which he had hijacked as Soren froze to his spot in front of his records. Why let a perfectly comfortable chair go to waste? "Someone as smart as you certainly knows my motivations, hmm?"

Soren continued to look at him suspiciously. "... Money? Is that the case anymore?" He remembered vaguely that Naesala had mentioned his excuse for his avarice -- for the furthering of his country. This information would very well serve that purpose.

"Still is, and will be for a while!" he said with a touch of lightness, obviously finding far more comedy in the scene than Soren did.

"I know what you s-- laguz think of the Branded," Soren replied testily. "I don't doubt that you would exploit this for Kilvas's benefit. Spread false rumors. Turn the advisory against the top."

Naesala looked amused. "So you would distrust Ike for his friendliness towards the laguz?"

"_Friendliness?_"

"I do suppose that may be an understatement. My mistake," he slurred.

"I disapprove of laguz and beorc relationships in that manner."

"You disapprove of laguz," Naesala observed. "So, what will become of your precious general then, hm?"

Soren stared emptily in thought for a moment. "None of your concern."

"Whether this meets the world's light or not is your decision," he said lazily, drawing circles with his finger on the armrest of the chair. "I could care less if..." Naesala lifted the hand up and turned the palm upwards, gesturing for the placement of some object into his palm, likely circular and shiny in construction, and in great numbers.

Soren gazed at Naesala's hand before turning away and looking at his desk instead. "I have no reason to believe you, and thus, nothing to bribe you for."

"Oh, no, they're plenty obvious enough. Go take a walk down the hall. You'll have all the evidence you'll ever need."

* * *

He had shooed Naesala out of his room in sheer annoyance, resolving not to ponder on this 'information' which he had gained. But he was distracted from the scroll he attempted to read, the words in the Ancient Language as cryptic as they were to him years and years before. Rolling it up and tucking it neatly into a vacant spot on his bookshelf, he stood and stretched, his knees stiff from sitting. 

His hand paused over the doorknob. He attempted several times to open it, but couldn't, finding that he almost preferred uncertainty over knowing for a truth that Ike was with a sub-human.

Finally, he plunged his hand forth, violently opening the knob, shoving forth the door, and closing it behind him before he could regret it. He let out a puff of air and wandered down the hall.

He came not to the room where Naesala had spied; but again, he came to the uncomfortably large, bright window across from the dressing room. He stared at their figures, sunbathing happily together, enjoying the wind together. Soren fumbled with the strings for a moment, failing; then in anger, withdrew a knife from the folds of his cloak and slashed the ropes that held the curtains open. The curtains unfurled quickly in their heaviness. The hallway became completely dark.

* * *

It was too early in the day for this. She had woke up late, having just finished a quick lunch before quickly trying to gather the materials for the conference. She silently swore to herself that she would never sleep with the curtains down again. 

Elincia fumbled with the collar of her dress, reciting the news over and over in her head, in an attempt to find a suitable form of its presentation. _Laguz acceptance... no, no, we've already slandered that phrase enough... Laguz are no longer sub-humans to... no! Of course not, that implies quite horribly that they've been thought of that way before! Although, I suppose that's true..._ She winced, sighing and wondering why it was so difficult to present even _fortunate_ news in front of a cynic. Perhaps cynics were just intent on making nervous speakers miserable.

She turned around a corner and blanched at the irony. Soren was walking quickly down the hall, looking quite flustered.

He glanced at her. "Queen Elincia."

"Hello, Soren." She gave a nervous smile, hoping that her previous thoughts weren't transparent to him. He displayed no interest in Elincia's jittery movements, continuing to walk at a rapid pace. But while Soren was apathetic, she became curious. "Is there something wrong?"

"A miscalculation."

She wondered what there was to _calculate_ during this peaceful time. "Miscalculation?"

Defensively, as if her retort were mocking his mistake, he muttered, "Yes, I was blinded by personal _bias_, there's nothing wrong with the logic itself."

Elincia watched him go down the hall and shook her head. Cynics. What a odd bunch they were.

* * *

"The statistics from various villages have shown that laguz employment is on the rise," she piped brightly. Elincia folded and unfolded her hands nervously, keeping on an optimistic smile. "So... surely everything isn't that bad?" 

Lethe scowled while examining her fingernails. Mordecai smiled, however, and nodded in agreement. "The beorc of Crimea are good."

"They're appeasing you in front while plotting behind you," Lethe hissed, crossing her arms. Naesala let out a light string of laughter. She glared at him. "What's so amusing, King _Kilvas_?"

He waved a hand in the air in dismissal. "Nothing, nothing."

"I wouldn't be surprised if _you_ had to do with all of this."

Elincia mentally sighed and, distracted, glanced towards the window. A squirrel retrieved an acorn near the window and gnawed at it. It froze as it noticed Elincia, and darted away. Elincia let her eyes run back to the developing hostility in front of her.

"Me?" Naesala appeared hurt, although it was difficult to determine whether or not he truly felt so. "My dealings with beorc certainly don't involve _maiming_ my kind."

Lethe was unsatisfied with this answer and returned to pondering while her tail sulked behind her.

"Lethe," Mordecai started uncertainly, "why do you think that the beorc must be bad?"

"They're... they're..." Lethe struggled, "they're... humans. That's the way they are." She whirled on Naesala and snapped, "King Kilvas, do you know something?"

"Do I?" he asked innocently. "I don't recall."

"Please," Elincia attempted to interject, "let's hold a civilized debate..."

Lethe fumed, her ears drawn to the side and her tail whipping back and forth under the table. Mordecai gave her a sympathetic and somewhat confused look, uneasy in his seat. Elincia stared out of the window, where the sunlight was flooding in strongly. _Cynics_.

"I personally find this to be a wonderful development," Naesala remarked absentmindedly, rubbing circles on the table again.

Elincia looked away from the window and blinked several times, Lethe's irritated face spotted with dark reds and oranges in the shape of flowers.

"So," Lethe gritted out, "what is it that you think we're doing correctly?"

"I think the addition of tolerance into the curriculum helped," Elincia suggested softly.

"Employment is done by managers long out of any education system," Lethe snapped.

Elincia slid down into her seat sheepishly. "But... they have children who will talk to them, right?"

"Ah, Queen Elincia," Naesala chuckled with a sigh, "I must agree with Lethe. The education affects mainly the next generation, and even then, not a great deal. Between their dear parents and their temporary teachers, most choose to follow the advice of their parents." Lifting his finger from the table, he pondered and added, "Actually, this gain may be a direct result of laguz cooperation in the war." He gave a slightly conspiratorial grin in Lethe's direction. She scowled and looked the other way.

"Why are the figures beginning to climb so much higher now, though?" she wondered, having unrolled the scroll and examining its lines of neat script and charts.

"Here." Elincia glanced up and slid the scroll to Naesala, who observed it. He seemed to give a stifled laugh, glancing up at Elincia. "That would be because, Queen Elincia, the hurricane that passed by the northern end of Crimea a few months before left many buildings devastated. To rebuild them --"

"Oh," Elincia squeaked, utterly embarrassed. Lethe snickered audibly off to the side.

"Say, whatever happened to that uptight tactician of yours? Does he prepare this information?" Naesala asked, attempting to keep the mocking tone out of his voice.

"Soren? Ah, no, he has a dislike towards the subject, and I figured..." Elincia stopped, struck by the oddest feeling of deja vu.

* * *

Knock knock knock. 

"What is it?" Soren muttered irritably, lifting his head from the desk. He hoped that he hadn't knocked over any ink in his unexpected nap.

The door creaked open slightly, and Elincia peered in, dangling a book. She was still slightly unnerved by the air of Soren's room, much like the last time she had visited. "I... asked everyone in the fort, and they all thought that this was yours." She held up a book rather pretentiously entitled, The Complete and Unabridged Chronology of the History of Begnion, 300 – 620.

"Yes, that would be mine," Soren grumbled, raking a hand through his bangs in an attempt to keep a semblance of order within his hair. He glanced at his hourglass. The top chamber was completely empty. Had he really slept through an entire hour, and more?

Elincia came closer to Soren, clutching the book with both hands. "Where should I put it?"

"Here." Soren gestured for Elincia to approach, and she did so hesitatingly. Having given Soren the book, she began to leave before remembering what she was planning to approach him later for, anyhow. Why not now?

"Soren?"

"Yes?"

Elincia blushed slightly from embarrassment at her memory of the conference before beginning, "Would you have time to analyze the conference materials for me? The ones that are left, that is."

"For the next week? All of it?" Soren blinked in disbelief.

"You don't have to do it right away," Elincia added hurriedly. "But it would help us if you added your thoughts of the consequences of each trend before the conference of the day." Soren continued to examine her, seeming to consider this.

"I should have time to."

"Oh thank y--"

"But it's not a matter of _if_ I can help," he continued, somewhat irritated. "Isn't this a conference for the sake of _your_ thoughts, Queen Crimea?"

Elincia flushed again. "Well... sometimes... I make mistakes..." She stopped, remembering their quick conversation from earlier.

"So long as they're corrected, they can be afforded here," he dismissed. "It's valuable experience for you."

She hesitated before beginning, "Soren?"

"There's already a conversation going, Queen Elincia," he muttered.

"Ah, sorry," she amended. She paused for a brief moment before venturing, "Earlier, when you made a miscalculation...?"

"Not of your concern."

Soren fingered the binding of the thick book. His rose to approach the bookcase on the side of his room, searching for the titles beginning with 'C' – or at least, he appeared to be interested in the books. Unwillingly, he wondered. He wondered if it really was of Elincia's concern – well, yes, it definitely was her concern, as she was clearly infatuated with Ike – and if he should tell her. When it boiled down to it, it wasn't a matter of _should;_ the tactician knew that in all consideration, rank, familiarity, he should tell Elincia. _Warn_ Elincia.

He found that he couldn't. Perhaps it was simply that he didn't wish to.

"I will take my leave," Elincia said softly, wondering if it was a good idea to interrupt him.

"Wait."

He cursed himself. Why, _why why why _did he say that, he didn't have a plan involving her, did he? He had no reason to go and keep her around--

Perhaps that was the moment when he realized the state of affairs. This meeting, and others, were awkward because of Ike. Even if unsaid, they both knew so. That single man held so much power over both of them, and yet they enjoyed his presence. Such a paradoxical thing, infatuations were.

So this would be it. Such a strange plan, so untested, and yet... He found himself unwilling to lie down and do nothing while Ike continued this, condemning his grandchildren, forgetting the lesson Soren had learned with his life. _It is _not_ jealousy_, he attempted to convince himself. But he found himself slightly content as he spoke.

"Elincia, what do you think of Lethe?"

* * *

"... Forty-nine thousand, fifty-thousand." Soren poured the last bag of gold into the bulging sack, Naesala watching with glittering eyes. "As agreed, you shall not speak a word about this." 

"Of course not," he replied, peering in the bag with a truly birdlike fascination. "So long as I don't go to Kilvas and, say, find a magic trap set on these?"

"They're clean," Soren said bluntly, rising to take a length of wire from the wall, eying Naesala warily. He wouldn't put it past the crow to attempt to sneak in more gold. Naesala was honest, however, only watching Soren's paranoia with amusement. Soren returned with the wire and abruptly and skillfully tied the opening of the bag, handing it to Naesala. "Leave."

"The fort? The meetings are hardly over," he slurred slyly.

Soren resisted the urge to twitch. Of course. Naesala had been invited here, and Naesala's order of business was primarily to partake in the meetings, not to spy on young couples making love in a closet. "Remain unobtrusive."

"If you didn't know about this," Naesala drawled, turning to leave with a grin towards the bag he held, "how would you plan to help them, hm?"

Soren paused. It was true that the information, however disastrous, was helpful. By the time that Ike – or, by some cruel twist, Lethe – should be able to break through denial to ask him, it might have been too late for him to help them... perhaps, even, conceal a child, however unlikely it may be. He kept down a growl in his throat, not wanting to admit that Naesala was correct.

"Exactly. You must know, as a tactician, that even unpleasant information is vital information." Naesala gave him a mocking smile and left.

* * *

_Disturbing morning._

"_I'm going to mother a Parentless! A Parentless!" Vomiting._

"_But she's ours." Soothing._

"_As ours as hell is! Even if the love is pure, this is... this is..." Hisses. Sobs._

* * *

**Endnotes:** And another het pairing emerges! Yay! (Pretty heavily implied in the previous chapter already, but whatever.) 

And... no offense to cynics. XP I may very well be one, to an extent.

Actually... when I was nearly done with this chapter, I foresaw possibly having to write more Ike/Lethe scenes, so I got around to reading their supports. I actually find it very random.

Support C: Let's fight!

Support B: ... Okay, so maybe you're better than I thought. Let's fight!

Support A: You fight well. ... Say, will you come to Gallia with me? Yes? That makes me happy!

Amused, I read some other things from the script. Ike/Elincia can actually be rather sweet, although the supports don't give much more than the canon already does. It... just kind of elaborates on it.

I read some other things, too, but if I babble much longer, I might start accidentally dishing out spoilers.

... Hey, um, readers, instead of throwing rotten fruit at the authoress, how about you play guess-what-scene-kept-us-waiting instead? Please? -:hides:-


	5. Four: Towards Freezing

**Author's Notes: **You know what? This took so long to complete that I had revised the author's notes at least five times. So I completely rewrote the notes when I was done.

I finally came back to finish this when I was poking at my stats page for fun and discovered that a disproportionately lot of people had this on story alert. Then I felt guilty for taking this long and came back to actually write this chapter.

I would claim that it's all downhill after this chapter, but I'm going to be busy with school work after this week (and this week was only relatively free because I caught an ear infection and my mother didn't want me to go off to school) so no promises. I do, however, plan to finish this, now that I've actually gotten to the interesting part. And it's taken pretty much a YEAR to get to the interesting part. Boy, I suck.

Something that struck me halfway through writing Soren's spazzy-happy scene is that I've actually never written a happy Ike/Soren fic. Then I realized that I tend to not get happy ideas in general. Go figure.

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Intelligent Systems, Fire Emblem, Nintendo, etc.

* * *

** Chapter Four – Towards Freezing **

* * *

_Oddly, I find myself... wishing for the day of its birth. I find myself wishing to get this part over with, so that I could let Elincia be farther away from me, so that Ike would begin to return to himself, so that the gears of history would begin to turn in the direction that we've set them into. Anything would seem to be a better option than waiting stressfully, and hoping that no one has discovered what we are planning._

_I was much calmer about this at the beginning of this, it seems. Or, perhaps, still numbed down by the following shock. "How many times have you had sex with Lethe?" I had asked, mentally calculating that the chances of offspring between a laguz and beorc of their age was at its peak, probably a .5 per incident during the period of ovulation._

_His ears reddened, and he glared at an innocent pen on my desk, an identifying habit much like button-playing or finger-nail-inspecting for most people. "A... a lot. I lost track," he admitted, still blushing, apparently shocked that I took a businesslike approach towards his life in the bedroom. Despite the war, he was such an innocent man in the area of these personal matters. It was almost fascinating._

_Sometimes I wish for an earlier time, and sometimes I wish for time to hurry and pass. Any time but now._

_Perhaps I caught the disease that had been spreading, for I feel rather disoriented. I awoke this morning from a dream in which I saw myself. More specifically, through a dark haze, I saw Ike, his back towards me, holding and adoring a young child, whom I recognized as myself. The child peeked over his shoulder and stared at me, asking, "Do you want to kill me?"_

_"Yes," I answered automatically, "I do."_

_Ike looked at the child curiously and slightly horrified, responding to him, "Of course not." Glancing over his shoulder to try to discern what the child was staring at, he saw nothing. "Is there someone there, Soren?"_

* * *

From beyond the door came softly: "Lethe... come on. Besides, you know I love you the most." 

Soren utterly detested emotions sometimes. They interfered with logical decisions. Moreover, he noticed, they impaired his ability to do anything else.

His hand was paused mere inches from the door, poised to knock. After much deliberation, he had decided to ignore the tension between he and the general to have their monthly discussion about finances. But now, hearing Ike's voice – Ike's voice speaking words like _those –_ he was suddenly unsure.

"And yet, you defend _that_ woman?"

"Elincia is still a friend," Ike sighed. "Besides, honestly, don't you think you're a bit... harsh?"

"No."

He heard Ike chuckle, and felt almost elated at the sound. Soren had always been fond of Ike's chuckle, light and just slightly cocky.

"I think you're acting as tightly-strung as Soren."

Soren was rudely knocked out of his thoughts and looked blankly at the door in mild disbelief. It appeared that some notions were truly held by all.

"Soren!" she indignantly said. "I am _nothing _like that – that --"

Much to Soren's relief, Ike did not offer any colorful descriptive insults. "Soren isn't that bad, either."

"To _you_, human."

"Lethe..."

Soren could imagine Ike giving a deep sigh and babying her slightly; he was so awkward towards her, and yet wonderfully supportive. He was inwardly jealous that Lethe would have so much attention after being such a small slighting.

"Lethe, I care for you the most. Really."

Soren realized that he was utterly jealous, and tried to stifle it, knowing that it was pointless. But, nonetheless, he couldn't help but notice that Ike was so entirely... different. When had he been so sappy? Soren almost felt that this was a negative quality, although he quietly realized that if he were in the place of Lethe, he wouldn't mind. But such musings were pointless. Ike was strange to him. Ike would continue to grow away from him, and he no longer knew him.

It was then that he felt, for sure, that Ike would be forever changed. He let his hand fall to his side and left the folder of bills in front of the door. Let Ike cram numbers. Soren bitterly hoped that Ike would come to him, scratching his head. It seemed as if that was the only contact left.

* * *

Knock kno-- "What do you _want_?" --ck. 

A moment's pause, then, "I could come back later, if this is inconvenient for you?"

Soren resisted the urge to flatly tell Elincia that it was never convenient. "Just come in."

Elincia opened the door and felt too awkward to enter, struck by a strong sense of deja vu. She realized that this feeling seemed to come very often when associating with Soren. (1) "Soren, you're... you're right."

"About?"

"Ike and, um..." She fidgeted while Soren very calmly fixed her in place with a subtly angered stare. "Lethe."

"And you discovered this? Are they that brash now?"

Elincia hesitated. "I wouldn't say _brash_, but... their slight openness does concern me."

"Their participation in such a scandal is entirely too obvious."

Having agreed, Soren waited for a response. Elincia, in turn, stared at Soren, waiting for him to continue to explain the situation -- and more importantly, how to repair it.

After a pause that he considered much too long, Soren finally asked, "And so, your point?"

"That they're being too open, of course...!"

"That is something I already know. What do you want me to do?"

Elincia blanked, staring at Soren. They each avoided the other's eyes, Elincia nervous and unsure, Soren distant and uncomfortable.

Soren had waited for her to say that. And yet. And _yet _-- now, he was at a loss of how to persuade her. He had never been one for persuasion. He was the tactician. He made plans, and Ike saw that they were carried out. He never was the manipulative sort, whether in a positive way or a negative way. Soren found himself questioning his plan, wondering if all the fragile little components were destroyed with his lack of experience, his lack of tact...

But then, he was pleasantly surprised when Elincia began, "I... want you to make sure that Ike will be okay." So surprised, in fact, that he momentarily forgot what he had planned to say.

Soren had never been one to stutter. When he was at a loss, he looked away and stared something to death while madly trying to conjure a response. A brown-tinged quill was his victim this time, and finally, he began, "I lack the means."

When animals stumble into a trap, many times, they become instinctively aware that something is wrong. Beorc and laguz are no less sensitive to this than a rabbit or a bear. However, considering themselves intelligent and above instinct, many beorc choose to ignore their gut instinct in favor of logic and contemplation. This was something that Soren was extremely familiar with, and he personally had learned to give weight to instinct. But, he knew, Elincia had yet to learn.

Nervously wringing her hands, dreadful anticipation tingling down to her fingers, Elincia replied, "Is there any way I could help?"

* * *

Soren experienced a sort of underhand delight he hadn't felt in a long time. He was ecstatic to hold such a powerful secret – it no longer seemed weighty to him. Perhaps Elincia was the key. Perhaps he could still stop Ike from changing. Perhaps he could still keep Ike as his. 

Doubt was nothing in the face of adrenaline. If Soren had been a more emotionally open figure, he might've literally cackled in glee. But being himself, he simply smiled a sly smile, mentally berating himself for resembling Naesala. Yet he was too excited to stop. His plan was working. It would work it would work it would work. Once, he had found it difficult to gain any confidence in his plans – there was always a measure of error, always – but this seemed to be all shoved into some cobweb-infested corner, and he was uncharacteristically doused in optimism.

Hence, when Ike showed up, asking for an interpretation of the bills, Soren quite willingly helped. Until, at least, Ike asked bluntly, "Soren, have you been all right lately?"

Soren stopped annotating their expenses for a moment and replied, "Yes."

Ike was concerned about him. Why, when he had already planned out an indirect method, did this simpler one make itself available to him?

"You seem to be upset over something."

Soren's resolve wavered, and the doubt, thinly covered before, assaulted him. But he had already gone too far into this, hadn't he? It would be unfavorable to have Elincia involved for nothing, wouldn't it?

"Well, I can't think of anything in particular that may be bothering me."

Ike continued to stare him down. Ike knew him too well, Soren realized with a mixture of appreciation and frustration. The commander simply chose not to pursue the topic because he _knew_ the answer.

"Armor expenses," Soren reminded him.

Ike looked disdainfully at the papers. "Oh, yeah. Right."

* * *

_Light is said to be appreciated by all living creatures. I admit that I am no exception. Sunlight, especially, as candlelight casts a dreary yellow that is quickly linked to being overworked. Sunlight is a white color. Sunlight is a strong light that remarks upon everything that does not hide from it. The world seems to look different in the morning – more quiet, more undisturbed._

_The light that floods the mess hall at midday, the light that bleeds through translucent skin... it makes me almost sentimental. I first saw Ike in the light of day, the gentle green of forest leaves reflected onto the brightness of his hair. I would spend more time in the light if I were able to. It is out of necessity that I work in the dark._

* * *

(1) ... Because the authoress secretly sucks ass at writing and keeps accidentally putting every other scene in the same setting. Oops. (Not my fault Soren is a little sociophobe...)

* * *

**Endnotes:** My chapters seem to waver between the longer end and the shorter end. I wanted to make this longer to make up for the wait, but I realized that trying to make it any longer would extend said wait. So here's a shorter chapter, interestingly abiding by the short-long-short-long pattern. I wanted to make it slightly longer, but I was actually happy with the pacing for once, so. :D;; 

Also, very annoyingly, Goddess of Dawn has managed to violate a good deal of its own Branded canon. Go figure. I based a good deal of this fic off Path of Radiance Branded canon, and I don't think I'm going to change it, because... that'd undermine just about half of the subplots.


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